


Ghost in the Machine

by HuntingPeople



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: All Human AU, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Twins, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mentions of past suicide, Open ended, Past Character Death, RK900 goes by Richard, Unsolved Murder, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, but happiness is implied??, gavin and tina being besties, implied suicide, it gets pretty heavy, mentioned Elijah, murder mystery??, rating it m just to be safe, so much swearing, still takes place in 2038, this sounds fucking horrible but I swear it isn't that bad, what an angstfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 17:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19399249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingPeople/pseuds/HuntingPeople
Summary: This was Connor.Dead Connor."The Connor I'm looking for is supposed to be dead.""Yes, I-... I think I would fall into that category."





	Ghost in the Machine

**Author's Note:**

> *Begins breakdancing softly* I can't fucking write but I guess I'm proud of this

_'Careful, rookie, this place is haunted!'_

_'Watch out for the ghost, rookie!'_

_'Don't let the ghosts get ya, rookie!'_

That's all Gavin had been hearing since he started work that morning. He was hoping to get out of the station and start working on his first case with the DPD, but that seemed to be too much to ask.

Instead, Gavin had been given the job to read through the files his new partner had shared with him and catch up on the cases they'd be working on together. All while every single other person at the DPD felt inclined to share ghost stories with him.

And his new partner, Hank Anderson, was a bastard.

Not only because he didn't lift a fucking finger to defend Gavin from the assault (Not that Gavin needed defending, but a nice, firm 'fuck off' from a trusted coworker would work wonders), but also because he seemed to be just an old drunk, undeserving of his Lieutenant position.

Gavin was getting pretty sick of everyone calling him rookie too, he wasn't even new to being a detective. He'd worked as one for years, just in another city, he probably had more experience than some of the other detectives there.

He was desperately trying not to let it get to him, didn't want everyone's first impression of him to be that he was an asshole, but God _damn_. He'd been at the station for a couple of hours now, and not even ten minutes had managed to pass without another cop coming by, spouting some nonsense about ghosts.

"Hope you don't have a night shift any time soon, Reed. The ghosts here love messing with rookies."

That fucking _did it_ -

"Enough. Let the poor man get some work done."

Hank Anderson. Coming to the rescue.

The new arrival instantly clammed up at the Lieutenant's venomous tone, shuffling away without risking an apology.

"Don't expect a thanks." Gavin growled, "You could have jumped in a lot fucking sooner."

"Wasn't for your sake, rookie." Hank spat, clicking away at his computer.

What a _bastard_.

"Do you even believe in this shit?" Gavin pried.

"Fuck no. It's just something the guys started using to scare newbies, and it worked, so it stuck. Now focus on those files, I don't want to be stuck in this damn chair all day."

Unfortunately they still weren't done by the time their lunch break rolled around. 

Hank drove them both to a food truck in complete silence, not making any effort to begin a conversation. It was clear he wasn't trying to actually befriend Gavin, and the detective was fine with that. He didn't need the man to be his friend, as long as they could still work well together and not jeopardize Gavin's chances of climbing the ranks.

They discussed the cases as they ate their lunch, Hank asking if Gavin had any thoughts, any theories he wanted to share. He didn't. Hadn't had enough time to think, so they lapsed into an awkward silence, until Hank announced it was time to go back.

The first thing Gavin noticed when they arrived back at their joined desks, was that his notebook was _not_ where he left it. It was in relatively the same position, but Gavin _knew_ that the corner hadn't been that close to his keyboard when he'd left.

He looked around. No one else in the bullpen was paying them any attention, but he still suspected someone had messed with it, so he looked through it. Didn't find any marks on any of the pages, couldn't see evidence of any pages being ripped out. It was still a fresh, new notebook.

Maybe Gavin was just being paranoid, his coworkers comments starting to effect him. He must have knocked it with his elbow at some point, or maybe it hadn't moved at all, maybe Gavin's tired mind was just making stuff up.

He shrugged it off, carried on reading through case files until it was time to clock out.

Hank ignored him when he left for the night, so Gavin returned the favour. He hopped on his bike and tore out of the parking lot, his only thoughts being what he'd have for dinner that night.

-

The next morning there was a steaming cup of coffee on his desk.

No note with it to give any hint as to who it was from, and early in the morning there was barely anyone at the station, definitely no one Gavin had met previously. No one who'd feel the need to leave him a drink. Hank wasn't around either, so that ruled him out, not that he was even on the list of suspects in the first place. 

"Must've been the ghost." A female PO teased, wiggling her eyebrows at Gavin.

Gavin glared at her, "Fuck off, it _must_ have been someone who got the wrong damn desk."

She laughed and stuck out a hand, "Name's Tina Chen. I already know who you are."

Gavin squinted at the woman and hesitantly took her hand. He kind of liked Tina. People who didn't flinch at his aggression instantly earned his respect.

"You really believe what you said earlier?"

Tina grinned at him, "Hundred per cent! I've seen some real spooky shit here over the past couple of years. Gets kinda hard to pin it all on coincidence or a tired brain after a while, you know?"

"Sure." Gavin snorted, "But ghosts aren't real and the entire concept is completely ridiculous."

She laughed again, playfully punched his shoulder. "If you can look me in the eye a month from now, and say that again with just as much conviction, I'll renounce my beliefs and go back to being a boring stick in the mud."

Gavin pretended to think about it, "Fifty dollars says I'm not going to change my mind in such a short amount of time."

"Make it one hundred and you got yourself a deal."

"Deal."

-

Hank stumbled into the station an hour later, long after Gavin had finished his unexpectedly delicious ghost-delivered coffee. He stank of alcohol and Gavin wrinkled his nose at the foul smell, but wasn't able to get a word out about it because they were immediately being sent out on a case.

On one hand, Gavin was grateful to finally be out of the station and doing his favourite part of the job. On the other hand, he wasn't pleased to be dealing with his fucking _drunk_ boss. How the fuck did Captain Fowler let him get away with this? A guy at Gavin's previous station had turned up slightly tipsy _once_ and was fired on the spot.

There was some type of favouritism going on and it pissed Gavin off.

There was a case to work though, so he shoved his anger down and focused. If he worked hard and proved himself, maybe he could take over as Lieutenant.

-

The day passed without anything else eventful happening. Gavin caught Tina in the break room and they had a conversation about something not relating to ghosts, which greatly improved his mood after dealing with Hank. But that was it. No more moving objects, no more surprise coffees.

Gavin went home that night with his thoughts focused solely on dinner again.

-

There was another freshly made coffee on his desk the next morning, but Hank was there this time.

"Don't even fucking think about it." The older man growled, "I ain't treating you like some spoiled princess by bringing you coffee every morning, so get that thought out of your head right now."

Well, that answered that.

"Then who is it?"

"How the fuck should I know? I only just got in and it was already there."

"Maybe it's-"

"Don't you _dare_ finish that sentence, Tina." Gavin hissed, turning to face the woman now stood behind him.

"Oh, come on! Is that any way to treat your new best friend after she did some top-tier detective work yesterday?" She teased, perching herself on the edge of Gavin's desk. "I should be promoted."

There was a sigh from behind them. Hank had his elbows on his desk and was rubbing at his temples, "Tina, it's too early for this."

"It's never to early to prove that ghosts exist! Now, Gavin. I spent all day yesterday trying to find the person who left that coffee on your desk, and you know what everyone said...?" Tina trailed off, looked at Gavin expectantly, and it took him a while to realize she actually wanted him to _guess_.

"Just tell me, for fuck's sake." Gavin growled.

She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout, "Boo, you're no fun."

"What did they _say_ , Tina?"

"Oh, not much. Just that nobody left a cup of coffee on your desk, on purpose or by accident, and nobody saw anyone do it either."

"That doesn't prove anything."

Tina let out an offended gasp, "Of course it does! What else could it-"

" _Tina_!" 

The gruff shout combined with hands slamming down on a desk had them both jumping, and they turned to see Hank glaring daggers at them both.

"Quit it with the fucking ghost stories." He snapped, "I'm tired of hearing about them, don't you have a patrol to be doing? And _you_ , Reed, you stop encouraging her."

Gavin glanced up at Tina, saw her clench her jaw tightly, before she slipped off the desk and walked away without another word. His eyebrows furrowed and he turned back to Hank, who's attention was back on his computer.

"That was a bit uncalled for, wasn't it? You didn't have to yell at her like that."

Hank ignored him in the usual fashion, and Gavin decided to let it go.

The rest of the day was hectic, two new cases were assigned to them and they seemed to have a lead for every existing one. They ran around nonstop for hours until Hank decided he'd had enough and went home early, dropping Gavin back at the station on the way.

Gavin raided the fridge in the breakroom and found an unlabelled lunch, something with chicken and vegetables he didn't have a name for. He headed back to his desk with it to settle in for a long night. He made it through several reports, and the entire boxed lunch, before he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. His head rested on the makeshift pillow of his forearms, and his soft snores were the only sound inside of the bullpen.

He managed several hours of sleep before he became aware of the world again. He awoke slowly, a groan escaping his mouth as he rubbed at his eyes.

The station was dark and empty, the beat cops doing the graveyard shift all out on patrol, leaving Gavin alone. His desk was the same as it was when he fell asleep, and his computer had put itself into sleep mode. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Except his leather jacket had been draped over his shoulders, which it definitely hadn't been before. Gavin had a very clear memory of taking his jacket off and throwing it over the back of his chair. He most certainly hadn't left it on, and he most certainly hadn't used it as a blanket. Clearly someone had put it there, whether simply out of kindness, or as some sort of prank. Could have even been Tina, sneakily trying to win the bet.

He sighed and woke his computer up, saw that the time was three in the morning. No point going home only to return in a couple of hours, so he started his day.

A hand reached up to scratch at his jaw as he headed to the break room. He was barely awake, but he spotted it straight away and froze.

The steaming mug of coffee placed on the counter.

"Oh, _fuck_ off."

Gavin stepped closer, slowly, hesitantly, like Tina was about to jump out from somewhere to scare him. He reached the counter without incident, and inspected the cup. No one was around to claim it as theirs obviously, and again there was no note, just like the previous two times.

Well, their loss, if it wasn't actually intended for the detective. Why waste time making a cup of coffee when there was a perfectly good one right there?

He got back to work on writing reports, after he'd cleaned up the empty food container and straightened up his desk. Paid no attention as coworkers slowly filed in, shooting him confused looks as they passed.

-

The rest of the week passed by much the same. Gavin and Hank reluctantly working together on their cases, managing to finally close three of them. A cup of coffee continued to appear on Gavin's desk every morning, and his things continued to move places. Sometimes just a few inches, sometimes completely disappearing.

It was beginning to get on Gavin's nerves. He refused to believe a fucking _ghost_ was the cause of it all, but Tina vehemently denied any accusations he threw at her, and so did every other cop he tried to blame.

He didn't even attempt to question Hank about it, they were so close to a full blown fistfight and Gavin wasn't eager to push the man.

What other options did he have though? If it was no one at the precinct, who else could it possibly be?

"Fucking ghosts..." He muttered under his breath.

There was a sound of a pen snapping across from him and he looked over at the Lieutenant.

"If I hear one more fucking word about ghosts, I swear to _God_..." Hank hissed lowly.

On second thought, maybe it'd do Gavin good to blow off some steam... "You'll fucking what, old man? Christ, I thought this ghost stuff was pissing me off, but you look ready to explode every time someone even so much as hints at anything supernatural. What's got your panties in such a twist?"

Gavin could see the man clench his jaw, looking like he was doing his best to ignore Gavin yet again. The detective did what he was best at and pushed.

He got up from his chair and moved around the desks to stand in front of the older man, "You scared of ghosts or something? Think they'll become real if we talk about them too much?" He placed his hands on the desk, leaned closer and spoke so only Hank could hear, "You're a real bastard, you know that? I don't know how the fuck you've managed to keep this job with the way you act. Treating everyone like shit, showing up late, drunk or hungover, going home early... is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

Hank stood so abruptly that his chair hit the floor with a loud crashing noise. The next moment there was a hand around Gavin's throat and he was being pressed up against the wall. The tone Hank spoke with was low, dangerous, "Do you seriously think you can threaten me and get away with it, boy? I am your _superior_ in case you've forgotten, I could end your entire career like _that_." Hank snapped his fingers just an inch away from Gavin's nose. He opened his mouth to continue putting Gavin in his place, but he was interrupted by a shout before he could continue.

" _Henry_!"

It was a firm, scolding voice and it made the entire precinct fall silent.

No one breathed, no one moved.

Hank turned so pale Gavin was actually worried there was something wrong with the man. He had no trouble letting go of Gavin though, or grabbing his keys before he all but ran out of the building.

Gavin looked around at the other cops, saw some confused faces, some shocked faces, some just as pale as Hank's had been. Everyone stayed frozen in place until Fowler opened his office door to yell at them, retreated back inside without questioning the absence of his Lieutenant.

-

Gavin stayed late that night, had to keep working to keep his mind off of what had happened. It didn't really work though, that one word wouldn't leave his mind, no matter how hard he tried to focus on other things.

Henry.

That was what the voice had said. The voice that clearly hadn't come from any of their mouths, but that they'd all heard. The voice that seemed to spook Hank the most, had him bolting from the station like a deer noticing a wolf was stalking it.

The other cops began to disappear one by one, heading home as the night grew darker, leaving Gavin alone with his thoughts. Leaving Gavin to wonder what mysterious cop had the balls to reprimand Hank Anderson like that.

A door slammed somewhere in the building and Gavin immediately hit the floor, hand on his gun holster, but it turned out to only be Hank.

A very drunk Hank swinging around a half empty beer bottle.

The man looked horrible. Clothes dishevelled, hair sticking out in all directions. It was like he'd taken a break on the way over to roll in a bush. Shit, Gavin hoped he hadn't driven in that state.

Hank paused in the middle of the room, looked around, didn't spot Gavin in his hiding place under the desk. When he spoke it was quiet, slurred, but Gavin heard him clearly.

"Connor... Connor, are you here...?"

Silence.

Hank's breath hitched.

" _Please_ , show yourself." He pleaded, "I-I fucking heard you earlier, you prick! Don't hide from me!"

More silence.

Hank lashed out at a nearby chair, sent it rolling across the station until it crashed into a wall. Then he collapsed to the floor, body shaking, and it didn't take a genius to know he was crying.

Gavin took a deep breath through his nose, slowly rose from his hiding spot. No matter how much he hated the man he couldn't leave him like that.

He grabbed his keys and jacket, and then approached the man like he would a scared child, "Alright old man, let's get you home." He said gently.

Hank jumped at the sound of his voice and looked at him sharply, "The fuck are you still doing here?"

"Had some extra work to do, since someone decided to skip out a little early." Gavin explained as he hauled the man to his feet.

"Hey, let go of me, asshole! I don't need any help!"

Gavin sighed, "I'm not gonna fight with you Hank. Just fucking cooperate, the sooner you do, the sooner we can be out of each other's hair."

Hank grumbled at that, but didn't protest any further. Worked with Gavin as he helped him to his car, handed over his keys without prompting, gave directions in as few words as possible.

"Before you go..." Gavin started as he parked outside of Hank's home, "Who's Connor?"

Hank looked surprised, but then his expression hardened, "None of your God damn business! Don't you _ever_ say his name again, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Lieutenant."

The door slammed behind Hank as he exited the vehicle, leaving Gavin alone to ponder the reaction.

-

Gavin couldn't let it go, he had to know who Connor was. So when he arrived back at his apartment, he immediately grabbed his laptop and looked up the history of the central station building. 

He found dates of important events, names of important people, descriptions of huge cases, but nothing about any potential deaths in the building. Nothing about any accidents. Nothing involving anyone named Connor. He expanded his search to the entire city of Detroit, and then to all of Michigan, but still found nothing. There was _something_ about two detectives named Connor and Richard, but there was so little information Gavin wasn't sure he could trust it.

Feeling defeated, he closed the laptop and headed to bed.

That night he dreamed of a pair of twins, one with blue eyes and the other with brown.

-

Hank didn't show up the next morning.

But that damned cup of coffee did.

Gavin wanted to throw it on the ground out of spite, growing tired of whatever game he was being forced to play. It was good coffee though, and he didn't see any reason to waste it.

-

"Hey, you know anyone named Connor?"

"Nope, why do you ask?"

Gavin let out a sigh at the response. He figured Tina wouldn't know anything, but still it couldn't have hurt to ask.

"No reason, just heard Hank mention someone with that name."

-

A couple of hours later, Tina swung by his desk again. "So I did some sleuthing- and I'm serious about that promotion- but I didn't find anything. _But_ some of the older guys, around Hank's age, _did_ get a little cagey when I mentioned Connor to them."

Well, that was certainly something.

"Thanks, Tina."

She grinned at him, slapped his shoulder, "No problem, buddy! Maybe you can put in a couple good words for me." She winked and waved, and then got back to whatever it was she was doing.

When he was sure she was gone, Gavin opened his notebook and skipped to the page that was mostly empty, save for 'CONNOR' written at the top. He found his pen and wrote down the first of his notes.

_CONNOR_

_\- Related to Hank, but how?_  
\- Previous partner?  
\- Brother? 

_\- How did he die?_

His pen tapped against the paper as he thought. How the hell was he supposed to find anything on this Connor guy if no one wanted to talk? Perhaps he could speak to Fowler. He was best friends with Hank, he had to know something.

He stayed behind again, intended to catch Fowler when no one else was around, to ensure privacy, but decided against it last minute. What if... he tested out a theory?

Gavin was glad Tina wasn't around, because if she was she might have demanded payment on the spot. He wanted to kick himself for even thinking about doing what he was about to do, but he had nothing to lose by covering all angles.

"Um... Connor...?" He spoke aloud in the empty room, "Uh, are you the one that's been bringing me coffee...?"

There wasn't a reply, and Gavin instantly felt ridiculous. Of fucking course he wasn't going to get a reply from a fucking _ghost_.

Was it just Gavin, or did the room get a little colder?

Not just a little, shit, he could see his breath.

"Connor?" He tried again, "C'mon you're making me look crazy here..."

What if...?

"Richard?"

Something hit the floor behind Gavin and a surprised gasp left his mouth. He turned in the direction of the noise to find his notebook splayed open on the floor. Stepping closer he noticed it was open to the 'CONNOR' page.

OK, but that didn't mean anything. He could've placed the notebook on the edge of his desk and it could've been teetering there until it finally lost its fight with gravity.

"What does that mean?"

"Hello, Detective Reed."

"Jesus fucking Christ, holy shit, what the fuck?!" Gavin gasped, clutching at his chest as his heart tried to beat out of his chest. He spun around to face the person who'd spoken to him and saw someone he'd never seen before, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Presumably the person you're trying to learn more about. My name is Connor."

This was Connor. Dead Connor.

The man did seem to have a... strange glow about him. But he didn't _look_ dead, tired definitely, extremely tired. Weren't ghosts supposed to be see through? And have wounds from how they died or were killed? This Connor didn't have any of that. He looked perfect, ready to attend some type of semi-casual business meeting, in his grey suit jacket, black jeans and black tie. Hair styled neatly with only a few stray curls escaping, much the same as Gavin's usually did no matter how hard he tried to slick them back.

"The Connor I'm looking for is supposed to be dead."

"Yes, I-... I think I would fall into that category."

"You _think_?"

Connor ignored him and moved over to the notebook. He picked it up and read aloud, "Connor. Related to Hank, but how? Previous partner? Brother?" He hummed, "Interesting theories, but both are wrong."

"OK, time out, take a fucking step back. I don't believe in ghosts."

Connor gave him a curious look, "You don't? Yet you still called the name of someone you believed to be dead, hoping to speak with them. And here I am, Detective."

Gavin blinked and the bastard was fucking gone. The notebook hit the floor again.

"I assure you, I'm quite real. Whether you believe it or not." Connor spoke again from behind Gavin.

Well, _fuck_. Looked like Tina was going to be a hundred dollars richer soon.

"You're real. You are a real actual ghost and I'm talking to you?"

"Correct."

"So can you answer my questions?"

The ghost looked apprehensive, "I suppose it depends on what they are."

"Alright, sit down. I have a few. Just say pass if you don't want to answer something."

Connor took Gavin's chair and Gavin stole the one from Hank's desk.

"OK, first question. How do you know Hank?"

"Pass."

"How did you die?"

"Pass."

"You're the one that called Hank's name yesterday?"

"Yes. I didn't like seeing him like that."

"Are the rumours true? Do you really fuck with people at the station? Scare them and all that?"

"We've been trapped in this building for twenty years, we have to amuse ourselves somehow."

Gavin paused at that, "We?"

"My brother, Richard, you called his name earlier. We're here together."

"You died together?"

"Yes." Connor said, and then stood from the chair, "I think I'm done with this interview for now."

If Gavin was being completely honest, he'd always been fascinated by the idea of ghosts as a child. Watched every show there was, read every book he could get his hands on, but as he grew older the idea appealed to him less and less, especially after- Well. He grew up, let the obsession die, started _'living in the real world'_ as his mother always said.

Now that he was faced with actual _proof_ he couldn't just let it go.

Gavin quickly grabbed onto Connor's sleeve, and didn't stop to think about how he managed that, "Wait, no, don't go! We don't have to talk about that anymore. Just- uh... stick around a while? We can talk about other stuff? I've lived for so long thinking the idea of ghosts was fucking stupid, and now there's one right here, and... that's kinda cool?"

Connor seemed to consider that for a second, before retaking his seat. "I suppose I wouldn't mind some company. It's... difficult only having one person to talk to."

"Cool." Gavin muttered, "So, uh, were you the one leaving me coffee every morning?"

"That was my brother. He was the one who covered you with your jacket the night you fell asleep at your desk too. I was the one who hid your things and rearranged your desk when you were gone."

The detective couldn't hold back a laugh at that, "Thanks asshole, I was begining to think I was going crazy. Is your brother around? I gotta thank him for that coffee, it was good shit."

"He is." Connor hummed, "But he's shy- oh, don't look at me like that Richard. If you want to prove me wrong, show yourself or I'll tell-"

"That won't be necessary."

The new presence behind Gavin made him jump, unbalancing him and almost making him tip the chair up, "Can people stop appearing behind me? Fucking hell, I'll be joining you both at this rate."

Richard looked almost exactly the same as his brother, just taller, more stern looking, and his eyes were blue instead of brown. The weird suit he wore was black and white, and had a ridiculous collar that covered his whole neck.

"My apologies, Detective, I didn't mean to scare you." Richard spoke in a deep voice, "I'm glad to hear you like the coffee I prepare for you."

Gavin let out another laugh at that, bordering on hysterical, " _Ghosts_. I'm talking to fucking _ghosts_ about coffee and the shit they do to mess with me."

That was how he spent the rest of his night, and to tell the truth, it was one of the best nights he'd had in a while.

-

He was glad he finally had a day off, because there's no way he could have gone on to do another full day of work after that all-nighter. Plus, Gavin needed time to think. Just a week ago he never would have thought that he'd be friends with a pair of ghosts. Now there he was, regretting making a bet about it.

Saturday was spent catching up on the sleep he missed. Sunday was spent trying to figure out how to approach the situation on Monday. Speaking with Connor and Richard had just made him more curious, but now he felt like he was invading their privacy somehow when he thought of ways to get more information.

But Hank wouldn't talk to him, and nobody else knew anything.

-

Gavin arrived early on Monday, with the intention of rifling through Hank's desk before the Lieutenant arrived. He was careful, making sure to put things back exactly in the same place. Though he was sure the alcohol had killed enough of Hank's brain cells that he probably wouldn't notice if Gavin moved the entire computer to the other side. 

There was a tap on his shoulder, but when he turned no one was there, so he continued. 

Another tap, but again no one.

"Connor?" He asked in a whisper.

"May I ask why you're searching through Hank's desk like you might find a cure for cancer in there?"

"Is that how you died?"

"Don't avoid my question, Reed."

Gavin tried to ignore him, pretend Connor wasn't there seeing as he couldn't actually see the ghost in that moment.

" _Detective_."

"What?" Gavin hissed, "I'm sorry, Con, but I gotta know. The way everyone's acting about this makes me think some kind of conspiracy is going on. Is that why there isn't anything about this online?" He opened a drawer and found a picture inside.

A wedding photograph.

"Gavin, stop."

He leaned over the drawer to get a closer look.

It was a definitely a wedding photograph. One containing Connor wearing a white suit, and a much younger looking Hank in black.

"Connor-"

The drawer slammed closed and several heads turned towards Gavin. He shrugged apologetically and went back to his desk, took a moment to process what he'd seen.

"Connor, what was-"

"He left."

Gavin sighed, clenched his fists, "What the fuck am I supposed to think, Richard?"

"Forgive us, detective, if we aren't very talkative about the manner in which we _died_. Try to be a little more sympathetic maybe."

Gavin didn't need to see to know the man was gone.

-

As he stayed behind yet again, Gavin wondered if Fowler would see him as a hardworking detective. A man dedicated wholely to his job. Thought about how _Lieutenant Reed_ sounded.

"Good evening, Detective." Richard greeted as he appeared in Hank's chair.

"Connor still mad?"

"I am." Connor stated from behind Gavin, but the detective didn't give the ghost the satisfaction of jumping out of his skin.

"For the record, I am too." Richard pitched in, "You'd think a man that deals with the relatives of murder victims would be a little more sensitive to the subject of death."

Gavin fidgeted at his desk, "Alright, I guess I deserve that, but I'm sorry, OK? I realize now I wasn't being the most... sensitive to the situation you're both in. But _fuck_ , you realize how this looks from my perspective right? No information online, Hank refusing to talk about it, everyone else acting suspicious?"

"Yes." Connor sighed, after a beat of silence, "We'll give you some information, if only to stop you from investigating this further and getting yourself into trouble."

"So are you actually going to answer my questions?"

"I feel it would be less tedious if I just explained. If you have questions when I'm done, you are more than welcome to ask."

Gavin shrugged, "Whatever works for you, I just want to know what happened."

Connor nodded, took a moment to compose himself, "Richard and I didn't just pass away, we were murdered." Another steadying breath, "We were staying late. A big case was coming to a close and we wanted to make sure all the paperwork was in order. An unrelated suspect escaped the holding cells, shot us both before we realized what had happened."

"And we didn't die straight away." Richard continued, focusing a hard stare on Gavin, "We laid there, for what felt like hours. _Suffering_. Watching our blood spread across the floor."

Gavin flinched at the taller brother's harsh tone, looked away as Connor picked the story back up, "There was no one else around then. They didn't find us until it was too late. We woke up like this, as ghosts, a month after the incident. That was twenty years ago.

"You couldn't find anything, because everyone did a great job of covering it up. How devestating would it be, if the citizens of Detroit found out that two detetcives had been shot dead in their own precinct?"

Silence followed the question. Gavin knew Connor wasn't looking for an actual answer. He waited a moment, making sure they were done with their story, before he asked, "And Hank? Was he your partner at the time?"

Connor tensed, and Richard answered the question for him, "They were married."

Before Gavin could ask _what the fuck?_ , Richard was continuing.

"They'd only just returned to work after their honeymoon when it happened."

How the hell was Gavin supposed to reply to that?

"Shit. _Shit_ , what the _fuck_? I- God, that's so messed up. I'm so sorry."

Richard gave him a strained smile, "Even if it happened twenty years ago, we are in quite a unique situation. You understand now why we're reluctant to talk about it?"

"Yeah, fuck. I'm so fucking sorry for forcing that out of you. God, I feel fucking horrible." Gavin buried his face in his hands, scrubbed tears away from his eyes.

"Perhaps we should lighten the mood?" Richard suggested, after they'd all had a couple of minutes to regain control of their emotions.

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Connor seemed to perk up a little at the idea, leaning away from his brother as he dried his own eyes, "We have countless stories of messing with the living we could share. Moving their things, whispering their name, tapping them on the shoulder. Typical ghost things."

"Sometimes..." Richard started, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips, "Sometimes when the new recruits come in we see who can get one to quit first."

Gavin couldn't help but to bark out a surprised laugh at that, "Are you serious?"

Connor shrugged nonchalantly, "If they can't handle a ghost, how are they ever supposed to be able to handle murder cases?"

That got another chuckle from Gavin, and the mood in the room lightened significantly. "You two are _evil_! Imagine doing six months of academy training, and then on your first day on the job, you're run out of your precinct by a freaking ghost!"

"You know, you've learned quite a lot about us tonight, but we barely know anything about you. Care to share, Detective?" Richard asked, not at all attempting to be subtle with his topic change.

"That's because there isn't much to tell." Gavin shrugged, the movement a little stilted, "I'm from Chicago, I'm thirty-six years old and my only goal in life is to eventually take over as Captain."

The brothers both gave him skeptical looks.

"That can't be all." Connor said, leaning an elbow on Hank's desk and resting his chin in his palm, "Don't you have any pets, or _want_ any? Hank and I... we had quite a few dogs during the course of our relationship, and Richard was a cat hoarder."

"Oh shit, yeah! I can't believe I forgot about that!" Gavin gasped and leaned forward, "No pets for me, my- uh, _I_ never had time for them, but tell me about Hank! I find it hard to believe the Lieutenant's been anything other than an old drunk." At the sad look that came across Connor's face, Gavin back-tracked slightly, "I mean, we don't have to talk about that if you don't want to-"

"No no, it's fine." Connor assured, "Hank was actually very hot when he was younger, and his-"

"Whoa! _Whoa_! I meant personality traits, Connor, not a physical description!"

The brothers dissolved into raucous laughter and Gavin lashed out at the closest one, catching Richard in the shin with his foot.

"Come on, be serious! I'm genuinely curious." Gavin let out an exaggerated whine, though he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the sound of their laughter, especially Richard's. It was deep and smooth, almost melodic.

When they finally calmed down, Richard hummed, "Hank was a good man. Very dedicated to his job, to helping people."

"There was something about him, and everyone knew it. He just had a way with people. Made everyone feel at ease without the slightest of effort. He was just so gentle and kind, I-... I'm not sure I can even find the words to do him justice..." Connor trailed off, "I... really miss him..."

Gavin tried to word his next sentence as sympathic as possible, speaking softly, "If you can do this, like communicate with me, then why couldn't you do that with Hank...?"

"I tried... but when we woke up like this, we didn't have as much... energy. It took years of practice to be able to get where we are, and by then I figured I'd only be doing more damage."

Gavin nodded silently, fidgeted in his seat, "What about Richard? Do you have anyone you, um... you miss?"

"Connor and Hank were my only family."

The following silence was akward and Gavin was desperate to break it, "So let's hear about cat hoarder Richard."

The sigh Richard let out was exasperated, "I wasn't a _hoarder_. I only had five cats and I was perfectly able to care for them all."

"Always liked cats." Gavin started hesitantly, "They're freaking cute, but don't tell anyone I said that, I got a reputation as a cold-hearted asshole to uphold."

"Does the cold-hearted asshole want to hear more about my cats?"

" _Hell yes_."

So Richard went on to describe his cats. Their names, their looks, their personalities,and Gavin ended up spending the night at the station again. He snuck out right before the dayshift would arrived, with a promise that he'd try to talk to the brothers again soon.

He had to call in sick in order to catch up on the sleep he'd missed.

-

When Gavin returned to work, fully rested, there was the familiar cup of coffee on his desk. Except this time, there was post-it note stuck to it.

 _'Please take better care of yourself. - R'_

A fond smile took over Gavin's face.

-

"Please go home."

"Nope."

" _Gavin_."

"Wow, you sound like my _mother_. No, I'm staying right here. If I spent twenty years trapped in the same building as my brother, with only him to talk to, I would've gone crazy a long fucking time ago. I'm keeping you company and saving your sanity."

"You're causing me undue stress, is what you're doing." Richard sighed, but didn't argue further with Gavin.

Gavin grinned at him, then took his new cup of coffee back to his desk, "So where's Connor on this fine night?"

"He's... recharging, I guess you could say. He's expended a lot of energy recently and needs time to recuperate." Richard explained, taking Hank's empty chair and moving it so he could sit beside Gavin.

"Just the two of us then."

"A fine date indeed."

Gavin choked on his coffee, spraying droplets everywhere and spilling what remained in the cup as he struggled to place it down again. He elbowed the ghost in the side as he panted for breath, "You're probably too old for me!"

"Let's see..." Richard started slowly as he pretended to think, "If I were still alive, I'd be fifty years old. That's only a fourteen year age difference, not too bad."

" _Only_ fourteen years, yeah, not long at all." Gavin took another sip of his coffee, this one, thankfully, not ruined by a coughing fit, "So you're telling me you were only thirty when you died? I barely believe that."

"But alas, it's the truth."

"How old was Connor then? Can't be older than his twenties, at least."

"On the contrary, he's actually five years older than me."

Luckily, Gavin had swallowed the coffee in his mouth right before Richard spoke, "Dude, what the fuck? You're pulling my fucking leg! There's no fucking way I'm gonna believe Connor was thirty-five years old when he looks like a God damn twink."

"Hank had the exact same reaction when he found out Connor was older than him."

Gavin was pretty sure his jaw was resting on the ground at that point.

Richard seemed thoroughly amused by the detective's reaction, but then his expression turned to one of melancholy. "In all seriousness, Gavin, if-... if circumstances were different, and at the risk of sounding like a perverted old man... I definitely would have liked to have your number."

Maybe it was a stupid idea, but when had Gavin ever been smart? He took out his notebook and hastily scribbled down his number, then handed it to the ghost without meeting his eyes, "Doubt you can call me, but we're here now, so uh..."

Richard took the piece of paper, held it tightly, "I- thank you, Gavin."

Gavin shrugged, "Yeah, well, you're not so bad looking for an old man."

The grin directed at him made his cheeks turn red.

"You're not so bad yourself, for a man who looks as if he's never gotten a single hour of sleep and instead regularly fights raccoons over trash." Richard phased away to avoid the punch Gavin threw at him, but his laughter didn't disappear.

Gavin found himself laughing too, "Alright, asshole! Get back here and woo me or I'm leaving!"

There was quiet and Gavin was about to get up and feign leaving, but an exaggerated ghostly 'wooing' sound made him stop. The laughter bubbled out of Gavin before he could stop it, even louder than a few moments earlier, it even brought tears to his eyes.

"What're you laughing at?"

His laughter cut off as he jumped a foot into the air, hastily scrambled to grab his phone from his desk, "Uh, memes! I'm laughing at memes, got bored of work and uh, just... started looking at memes... on my phone..."

Tina squinted at him, "Right... aren't you supposed to be at home right about now?"

" _Supposed_ to be, yeah. Got a bit behind on work because of fucking Anderson skipping out on me again."

"Well, I was just on my way out. You wanna come with? We can go find someplace to get a midnight snack."

"I- uh, yeah, that sounds... good. I'll meet you outside in a sec?"

"Don't be long! You promised me a ride on that bike of yours." Tina wandered off towards the exit, whistling off-key, and Gavin let out a sigh of relief. 

"Richard...?" He asked in a whisper, "You still there...?"

"Still here, detective." Richard murmured from beside him.

Gavin turned to him, "Uh, raincheck on that date?"

"Raincheck. I'll see you tomorrow, Gavin." Richard smiled and leaned down to place a soft kiss on Gavin's cheek.

Gavin left hoping it was too dark for Tina to see his blush.

-

_'Good morning, detective. I hope you slept well.' -R'_

-

"So." Tina started in a sing-song voice, "I've noticed that your ghost coffees come with notes now. Who's 'R'?"

"No idea." Gavin lied.

"Need detective Chen to work the case?"

"I'm fine with not knowing for now, they gotta be getting more confident if they're leaving notes now, right? They'll reveal themselves sooner or later?"

-

"Was making me coffee every morning a way for you to flirt from beyond the grave?"

The choking noise Richard made sounded extremely satisfying, "I... guess... you could say that, yes."

Gavin kicked his feet up to rest them in Richard's lap, "So no Connor again tonight?"

"He should be here soon, give him a moment. In the mean time I can tell you about the time he-"

"Don't you _dare_ , Richard Michael Dechart." Connor hissed as he materialized, stealing a chair from a nearby desk.

"Wait no, that sounded like an interesting story." Gavin teased, but let it go quickly. "Enjoy your beauty sleep, princess?"

The next couple of hours were filled with good-natured teasing and the brothers taking turns to embarrass the other with stories from the past.

Gavin laid in bed that night, wondering how the hell this had become his life. Just a few weeks ago, he hadn't believed ghosts were real. Now he considered one to be a friend and the other he was kind-of almost dating. It wasn't how he expected his transfer to Detroit PD to go, but he wasn't complaining. If anything, he was... happy. For the first time in a while.

If only-

-

Gavin planned to stay late again, once the day's work was done, as had become routine, but his partner seemed to have other ideas. Instead of packing up at the end of the day, skipping out slightly early as usual, Hank stayed in place at his desk, eyeing Gavin until the bullpen was empty.

"Something wrong, Lieutenant?"

"Why have you been staying late every night? Thought you were doing illegal shit, but there's no evidence, so why the fuck do you need to spend so much time here?"

He was using his interrogation voice, but it had no effect on Gavin, the detective already too used to way it sounded.

"Connor Dechart."

It came out of Gavin's mouth before he could stop it.

Hank's eyes widened ever so slightly, "How do you know that name?"

Well, Gavin couldn't back out now, he'd have to continue, "You might've been too shitfaced to remember, but the other night you came in here, after everyone had gone home, and started yelling about this guy called Connor. Thought I'd try and figure out who it was, but I haven't found anything yet. You wanna tell me?"

"Who Connor is is none of your damn business." Hank growled lowly, standing from his chair, "And you'll keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you."

The notebook on Gavin's desk shifted, out of sight from the older man. It slowly flipped open to a page where Connor had written ' _SHUT UP_ ' during one of their day time conversations.

Gavin put his hand over the notebook, "You can stop hiding now, Connor. Show this miserable bastard that you're still around."

Hank shot him a dark glare. If looks could kill, Gavin would be six feet under. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, Reed, but it isn't fucking funny."

"Connor's a ghost, and we've been hanging out the past few nights. He told me he misses you."

Hank shot out of the chair faster than a bullet, threw Gavin against the dividing wall. "Listen here you sick fuck. Connor is _dead_ and ghosts don't exist. He's fucking gone, you hear me? _Shut it_ , or I swear I will kill you."

A hand settled gently on Hank's shoulder, made them both freeze. A voice could be heard, just as gentle as the touch.

"Leave him alone, Hank."

Hank's hands started shaking where they were buried in Gavin's jacket. He refused to turn around and Gavin watched tears gathering in the corners of his tired eyes. "It's not real." He muttered, "You're not real. This can't be happening."

"Please turn around."

"No- I can't-"

"Hank..."

The hand tugged gently and finally Hank turned.

"It's been a while." Connor smiled, the tear tracks on his cheeks shining ever so slightly in the dim light.

"How...?"

The ghost shrugged, "I don't know-"

He was cut off by Hank wrapping him in a suffocating hug, "I missed you. God, I missed you so fucking much, Connor. I-I- _fuck_." He broke down into sobs, burying his face into Connor's shoulder.

There was a tap on Gavin's shoulder and he turned to see Richard standing there. He jerked his head in the direction of the break room and Gavin nodded. They needed to give the reunited couple some privacy to work things out.

"I fucking panicked." Gavin said, crossing his arms on the table and hiding his face in them, "Shit, I hope he doesn't think I was trying to force him or something."

"It's alright, Gavin." Richard soothed, a hand rubbing at Gavin's back, "He... he was thinking about doing this, after what you said. I think he would've liked a little more time to prepare what he wanted to say, but maybe this was better."

Gavin lifted his head to check on the couple. 

Hank was sitting in Gavin's chair, his face pressed into Connor's stomach who was standing in front of him. Connor's fingers gently carded through grey hair as he spoke too softly for Gavin to hear.

"I imagine they have quite a lot to catch up on." Gavin sighed.

"Maybe while they work things out, we can continue where we left off before officer Chen interrupted us?"

"Make me a coffee and I'll consider it." Gavin grinned, turning to lean back against the table. His breath stuttered when instead of heading to the coffee maker, Richard stepped closer, pressing his chest against Gavin's.

"Do I get a please, detective?"

Gavin dived forward before he had a chance to change his mind, catching the taller man's lips in a kiss, his hands resting on Richard's chest. "Please." He whispered against Richard's lips when they pulled apart.

A growl left Richard's mouth. Something feral. Possessive. His hands gripped at Gavin's hips, pulled him firmly against his body, so they were touching from their chests all the way down to their feet. He claimed Gavin's lips again, but the kiss was far from gentle, teeth clashing, lips bruising.

A cough from the doorway had them breaking apart.

Gavin wiped saliva away from his lips with his jacket sleeve.

"Hank and I are done talking. You can come back out now, though it looks as if maybe you want to be left alone..."

"No!" Richard said quickly, then coughed, "Uh, no, it's fine."

Gavin nodded in agreement, "Yeah, um, we're good."

Connor was glaring at him and Gavin wanted nothing more than for the floor to swallow him. He really did not want to listen to the whole 'hurt my little brother and die' speech.

The pair followed Connor back into the bullpen, where Hank was still sitting in Gavin's seat, When Connor was close enough, Hank reached out a hand, held onto Connor's jacket so tightly his knuckles turned white. He was like a child scared of being separated from his mother.

"I'm right here, Hank." Connor whispered, hands returning to the man's hair.

Richard cleared his throat, "Hello, Lieutenant."

Hank's head shot up and he searched the room until his eyes landed on Richard, "Jesus..." He breathed as he stood, "Connor didn't mention that you were still around too." He pulled the taller man into a firm hug, "It's good to see you again."

Richard didn't hug back, but he did bury his face in Hank's shoulder, "It's good to see you again too, Hank."

They pulled away from eachother and Gavin shuffled his feet awkwardly, "So, uh, we're all good now? You're just ready to accept the existence of ghosts?"

Hank shrugged, let his weight drop back down into the chair, hand returning to Connor's jacket, "I'm either dreaming or crazy, but if I get to see Connor again... If I get to see _my husband_ again, then I don't care."

Silence fell like a blanket, none of them quite knowing how to continue the conversation. It was broken several minutes later, when Hank finally spoke up again, "I'm gonna find him. The bastard that did this."

Connor stilled, "Hank, it's been so long I-... I'm not sure I even remember who it was."

"Zlatko Andronikov. We had him in custody for drug related charges." Hank said, "You said you don't know why you're still here, what if it's because we never found him again? He wasn't punished for murdering you, it could be 'unfinished business' or whatever that theory is. You're tied to this place because of him. If I fix that, maybe you can be free, Connor."

"What if nothing happens?" Richard suggested, "What if we're still trapped? Or it does work, but we just... disappear, no 'heaven' for us, or reincarnation or any sort of afterlife? What if that afterlife is something like Hell?"

"I don't want you to be _trapped_ here, I-I love you both so much, to think you've just been here for twenty years... I'd hate for you to leave again, but at least I'd actually get to say goodbye this time."

"I'll help." Gavin cut in, "He's right, you shouldn't be trapped here. If there's even a _chance_ that there could be something better for you, shouldn't we take it?"

They all turned to him. 

Richard and Connor looked... hurt, scared, but Hank seemed determined.

"No." Richard said firmly, "It doesn't matter if it'll be better for us, Zlatko is dangerous. I'm not going to sit by and let you both just reopen a twenty year old investigation with no information. It's reckless."

"What would you even tell Fowler? 'The ghost of my dead husband spoke to me, and now I have to find justice in order for him to rest in peace?'"

"Fowler doesn't need to know." Hank growled, "When I find Zlatko, I'm going to _kill_ him." He was standing now, hands cupping Connor's face, "Connor, your death... It _destroyed_ me, maybe you've noticed? I can't go more than twelve fucking hours without a drink, there were so many times where I considered just- just offing _myself_. When they gave up, closed the case, it was like you'd died for a second time. We were only married for a month, Connor, we had so many plans. You remember Cole? The perfect little boy we always dreamed of having?"

There were tears in Connor's eyes as he nodded, reached up to cover Hank's hands with his own, "Hank..."

"We should be living that life now and we aren't. Please let me do this, _help me_ find him."

"Stubborn bastard." Connor cried, pulling the man into a kiss.

"I still don't like this idea." Richard huffed. 

He was interrupted before he could continue by Gavin digging an elbow into his side, "Don't ruin the moment."

"This is stupid, and idiotic and I will not stand-"

Richard was cut off again by Gavin capturing his lips. "You talk too much sometimes, you know that?"

Richard huffed and playfully shoved Gavin.

"Reed!"

The sudden shout made the detective jump, and he shot a glare at the Lieutenant, "What?"

"We're going, I-... I want to show you something."

-

"I hope you don't think this suddenly makes us best friends."

"You got nothing to worry about, old man." Gavin snorted, crossing his arms and slouching in the passenger seat of Hank's car, "Where are you even taking me?"

"You'll see."

"Oh, cryptic. I _love_ cryptic."

"Shut up, Reed."

They drove for what felt like hours, the tall buildings of central Detroit slowly becoming more and more scarce as more and more trees appeared. They came to a stop outside of an ancient looking cemetary.

Hank silently stepped out of the car and started walking, not waiting for Gavin, and the younger man cursed as he hurried to catch up. With his hands in his jacket pockets, Gavin walked quietly behind Hank, head turning in all directions to check out the surroundings. He had a feeling he knew exactly where he was being taken.

He was proven right when they arrived at two head stones with familar names carved into them. 

_Connor Anderson_  
Loving brother and husband  
August 13th 1983 - October 11th 2018 

_Richard Dechart_  
Loving brother  
September 9th 1988 - October 11th 2018 

A small glass vase of slightly wilted flowers was placed between the headstones, but the slabs of stone seemed to be well cared for. There was wear and tear, simply from how long they'd been there, but they must have been cleaned regularly, only a few stray spots of dust and mud visible.

"October 11th was a Thursday. I come out here every week to bring them flowers and clean up the headstones, sometimes do some weeding, cut the grass." Hank cast a look around the surrounding plots, where the grass was overgrown and the headstones in much worse condition, "Don't think I've ever seen anyone else out here in all those years, people don't care much for cemetaries anymore."

Gavin didn't say anything, just let the man say what he wanted in his own time.

"That day, twenty years ago... Worst day of my fucking life. It started off as just a normal day, hunting criminals, doing paperwork. I left before Connor and Richard, because I managed to finish up my work early, but they wanted to stay behind, make sure their reports were good. So I kissed Connor goodbye and slapped Richard on the back and that was the last time I saw them alive.

"Wasn't too worried at first, for obvious reasons, but when I'd stayed up all night texting and calling and still hadn't gotten a reply from either of them? I had to haul ass to the station as soon as I could, even if it was my day off. I didn't even need to go inside to know something was wrong. I could see that the receptionists weren't at their desks, and all the cops were just standing around looking so fucking solemn. As soon as they spotted me they all just stopped and _stared_. I don't know how many people I punched trying to get into that building, but I knew they just kept fucking coming.

"I wish to fucking God I'd let them stop me. There was so much _blood_ , I swear it covered half the fucking bullpen floor. I've seen some shit Gavin, but I've never seen a crime scene that looked as bad as that. Broke down right there. I was ugly crying, I was _screaming_ , I'm sure I broke so much shit when the grief turned into rage...

"In the end they gave the case to the FBI, and I didn't step foot inside central station for six months."

Hank's hair obscured his face, but unless it was raining, the drop of water Gavin saw fall to the ground was most definitely a tear.

A swipe at his own face revealed his cheeks were wet too.

"You ever lost anyone, Gavin?"

"Fucking hell, give me a sec." Gavin coughed, hurriedly trying to dry his face, "Yeah, and it was horrible, but not- not someone like that... I can't imagine what that kind of pain is like. I'm sorry-"

"Save it." Hank sighed, "I don't need those words right now."

Gavin nodded and crouched down in front of Richard's gravestone, reached out a hand to run the tips of his fingers along the engravings.

"So, you and Nines, huh?" Gavin's confusion must have been obvious without him even saying anything, because Hank went on to clarify, "Richard. It's a nickname that stuck, the number nine seems to follow him everywhere."

In answer to the original question, Gavin just shrugged, "I guess. He said I was hot and I think he's hot too, so why not?"

Hank's laugh was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, "Of course! Richard always loved guys that looked as if they'd barely survived a fight with a chainsaw."

"Oi, fuck you!"

It was meant to sound aggressive, but Gavin couldn't fight the grin forming on his face.

-

The detective duo began their investigation the next day. Despite the case being handed to the FBI, Hank had tried to work it himself and had compiled his own case file. He presented it to Gavin in the privacy of his own home, very pointedly not looking at the crime scene photographs. 

Hank had been right. There was so much blood, Gavin found it hard to believe it only came from two bodies. He didn't look at the photos for long, instead moving on to the report of the beat cop that had first found them.

It didn't take long to go over everything, there wasn't much.

"We haven't found anything relating to Zlatko in twenty fucking years, so who knows if the bastard's even still alive, but it's worth a shot. We should start by searching the places that related to him back then, see if we can find anyone who worked with him at the time and possibly still does."

Gavin agreed, "Lead the way. I'm ready whenever you are."

-

"I still don't like this idea."

"You could do with a change of scenery. Staring at the same four walls can't be good for your mental health, even if you are just a ghost."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Gavin snapped, finally looking up at the android stood in front of him.

Richard leaned forward, placed his hands on the desk either side of where Gavin was sitting, so the younger man had to lean back in order to still look at him. "The point _is_ , Gavin, that neither of you are listening to how Connor and I feel about this. You're making decisions for us."

"Connor doesn't mind." Gavin argued.

"But _I_ do." Richard countered, leaning just that little bit closer so their noses almost touched, "I died once and it was _terrifying_. I laid there, slowly bleeding out, and I had no idea what was going to happen. This is like deja vu, it's the exact same thing happening again. I have no control, and I have no idea what could happen, and I'm _scared_. Do you understand now?"

Gavin cursed and let his head fall against Richard's shoulder, "Well shit, Nines, when you put it like that-"

"Nines?"

"What?"

"You called me Nines. Where did you get that from? We haven't mentioned that to you."

Gavin flushed a bright shade of red and was grateful he was hidden from the ghost in that moment, "I'm sorry, Hank mentioned it and I-I don't know, I guess it just slipped out-"

He felt lips touch his cheek, then brush against his ear, and Richard practically purred, "I don't mind the nickname. I like the way it sounds when you say it." He leaned back as Gavin lifted his leg to kick at him and caught it just before his foot connected, took on a slightly more serious tone, "We aren't done with that conversation, but I'm willing to let it go for now."

"Whatever." Gavin huffed, pulling his foot back. He turned to the empty desk behind him. Hank and Connor had vacated it a while ago and had been gone since, "Think they're banging?" He asked, gesturing to Hank's desk.

Richard smacked his shoulder, "Don't be crude! That is not an image I want in my mind, thank you very much."

Gavin grinned at him, "Hey, since it looks like we actually have some time, why don't we try and get through that first date."

"Third times the charm. I'll bring you some coffee." Richard said softly, pressing a kiss to Gavin's forehead as he passed.

Gavin absentmindedly swung his legs as he waited, his mind drifting to the events of the day. 

Inbetween their official cases, if they had time and happened to be close enough, they'd visited some of the locations Hank had mentioned in his files. They found nothing, but he tried not to look at it as a loss. At least they could rule those places out and not have to waste any more time on them.

Then his thoughts drifted to Richard. The man that had died when Gavin was still a teenager. The man that for some inexplicable reason, actually _liked_ him enough to want to date him, despite how shitty he'd acted. Gavin wasn't quite sure how he felt. Richard was good looking, and they definitely got along and maybe Gavin could even see a future for them. 

But Richard was dead and soon, possibly, could actually be _dead_ dead. It wasn't a good idea to pursue any sort of relationship, it wasn't like Hank and Connor who had been married before everything that had happened. They were just continuing where they left off, Gavin and Richard were starting something. Something completely new.

A bad idea it might be, but Gavin wasn't going to stop.

"Detective? Are you alright?"

Gavin jumped, having not noticed that Richard had been standing right in front of him, "I'm fine, sorry. Thank you." He took the warm cup from the ghost's hand and took a long sip. "So, I don't even know you, really. Sit down, tell me everything."

Richard wheeled Gavin's chair closer and took a seat, crossing his arms on Gavin's lap, "Where do I begin?"

-

The night was spent learning all sorts of things about each other. How they grew up, where, how they got into detective work. Their favourite foods and favourite bands and favourite swear words. 

It was the best date Gavin had ever been on, hands down.

At some point Hank and Connor returned, but they didn't interrupt. Not even when Richard's eyes eventually fell closed as Gavin petted his hair.

-

The next day, Gavin spotted Hank with his hand laying on the desk, palm up, fingers slightly curled. He had a feeling Connor was holding it.

-

"You've been in a really good mood recently and I don't know what to make of that, and the post-it notes on your coffee seem to be getting more and more specific. Are you seeing your secret admirer?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Gavin Reed, you dog!" Tina gasped dramatically, "I need to know everything. Every single detail. Do I know him? If not what does he look like? What's his personality like? Does he have a big-"

Gavin cut her off by slapping a hand over her mouth, "I will tell you _some_ information, but that lil' tidbit is staying out of it."

Tina licked at his palm and he let out an exaggerated disgusted noise, "Dude!"

"Don't be a baby and spill! We don't got all day!"

At that moment Hank gave a him a _look_ and Gavin stood, "Sorry, Tina, looks like you're gonna have to wait. Some of us have work to do."

He and Hank had finished up the list of locations, now it was time to start on the list of people. Hopefully, it would yield much more promising results.

-

It did. They went through the list of seven people, slowly but surely. All were dead ends until they reached the last guy. He'd been reluctant to talk at first, but after some not-so-empty threats, they found he had a lot of useful information to share. Although the guy no longer worked with Zlatko, he'd kept tabs on him. He knew what Zlatko was doing, who he was working with and, most importantly, he knew _where_.

-

"We're getting close."

"That's exactly what I feared you'd say."

"Richard..."

"Don't."

Gavin wrapped his arms around Richard's shoulders and pulled him close instead. "It's gonna be OK. Just trust me."

The ghost didn't say anything, but his hands went from hanging at his sides to clutching tightly at the leather of Gavin's jacket.

-

Facing Zlatko required careful planning and preperation. If they rushed into it, if they made any sort of mistake, it would be over for them, and the whole thing would have been rendered useless. They needed to get away with it too. So they brainstormed, the four of them, coming up with the perfect scheme to murder Zlatko Andronikov and avenge the two brothers.

-

"We don't have much time left." Richard whispered into Gavin's hair.

"Please don't remind me." Gavin whispered back, lightly smacking the ghost's arm, "I'd rather just make the most of this and not think about it."

Richard hummed, adjusted Gavin's position in his lap. "And how do you propose we distract ourselves."

Gavin seemed to get the hint, "I think I might have some ideas."

The following kiss was bittersweet.

-

It wasn't long after that that the day came to set their plan into motion.

The two living detectives stayed behind at the precinct, as had become their routine, to say what could potentially, hopefully, be their final goodbyes. Gavin and Richard took to the breakroom for some privacy, leaving Hank and Connor at the Lieutenant's desk.

As soon as they were alone, Gavin threw his arms around Richard's neck, hugged him tight and tried to control the sobs that threatened to break free.

Richard clutched him back just as hard.

"Gonna kill that bastard and you're gonna go to heaven, or whatever good place there is, just you wait." Gavin breathed.

Richard held him even tighter, and the shaking of his body was made even more obvious, "I'm scared." He admitted in a whisper.

Gavin's breath hitched, "It's going to be fine, Richard, OK? You remember the plan?"

"Sit around and wait?"

"Richard."

A shaky sigh and then, "I promise, if I'm still around when you come back to the station, I'll contact you immediately. Do you remember _your_ plan?"

Gavin nodded against the ghost's shoulder, "Take Zlatko by surprise, shoot him with his own gun and then get the fuck outta dodge."

Richard let out a long breath, " _Be careful_ , I'm begging you. Come back safe."

"I will."

They held each other just a moment longer, until Richard pushed Gavin away to draw him into a deep kiss. "I _love_ you so damn much, you dumb fuck." He hissed against Gavin's lips.

Gavin couldn't stop the breathless laugh, quiet and shaky, "Fucking love you too, asshole."

-

Leaving the station was difficult, but they had to move quickly. Zlatko had a meeting in just a couple of hours, and they wanted to kill him and get out before then.

Hank drove them both to Zlatko's hideout in a crappy car from the early 2000's that was hidden not far from the precinct. It was presumably rented from some shady place so it'd be difficult to track, but Gavin didn't need to know the details. 

They didn't talk, there was no need for it. They knew exactly what they had to do, and it wasn't exactly the time or place for idle chitchat.

Zlatko's home was a ridiculously huge formerly abandoned mansion, though half of it was rendered unusable from collapsed walls and overgrown foliage. He lived alone, but hadn't let his knowledge of technology go to waste.

The pair knew about the various booby traps that were set up, as well as the security cameras. Avoiding them all was easy, the vegetation providing too many blindspots that Zlatko just couldn't cover.

The criminal spent most of his time in the lab he'd created in the basement, and that's where Hank and Gavin were headed. On the way, they picked up the guns they knew Zlatko had hidden around, using gloves so they wouldn't leave fingerprints.

He'd have another one with him too, but it was two against one and the detectives had the element of surprise on their hands. 

Hank had no doubt they'd come out unscathed.

As they approached the stone stairs leading down to the basement, Gavin could feel his trembling grow worse. He paused, nodded at Hank to let him know he was alright, and took a few deep, steady breaths.

When he felt calm enough, they began descending, Hank in front. They agreed that Hank would be the one to kill Zlatko, Gavin was only there as backup and would only shoot if things were looking dire.

At the bottom of the stairs was a battered but sturdy wooden door, an electronic lock attached to it glowing green to indicate it was open.

Hank kicked it in and Zlatko stood in the middle of the lab, facing them, gun in hand.

He didn't give them a chance to react, firing immediately, but his aim was off. Zlatko usually had people do his dirty work for him, he was out of practice with a gun.

Hank managed to duck and roll away just in time, and Gavin went in the opposite direction.

It was a tense few moments, with bullets flying in every direction, sending shards of concrete, wood splinters and mangled plastic flying everywhere. 

But it ended with Zlatko on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

"Someone must have let him know we were on his tail." Hank panted, swiping blood away from a cut on his cheek.

"Well it wasn't enough, bastard got what was coming to him." Gavin hissed, dropping the gun in his hand, "C'mon, let's get the fuck out of here."

"Don't need to tell me twice."

-

The ride back to the precinct was done in tense silence, both of them still feeling the adrenaline. The rented car ditched and switched out for Hank's. Neither of them wanted to speak about who was waiting for them, or _not_ waiting for them if their plan had worked.

Once they arrived, Hank was the first out of the car, practically running as he entered the station and made his way over to his desk. 

Gavin followed a lot more slowly, a hand clutching at his side.

They waited for a beatcop to pass before Hank snatched Gavin's notebook and placed it flat on the desk.

"OK, if you're still here, let us know." Hank said as loud as he dared, looking around the bullpen.

There was silence, the notebook didn't move, neither of the brothers appeared.

"Richard... Connor, if you're still here..."

Again there was nothing, and Hank let out a strangled sigh. His next sentence was cut off before it could start by a cough from Gavin, and then a loud, rattling wheeze.

Hank's head shot up and his gaze focused on Gavin like a hawk, "You OK, kid?"

"Fine, just- fuck. Didn't expect that to work, and now-" Gavin tried, but was cut off by another coughing fit. 

Hank jerked out of his chair and dropped down in front of Gavin. He tugged the man's hands away from his mouth and his eyes widened when he saw they were red.

"What happened?" He demanded.

"Nothing." Gavin lied, "I'm fine. Bullet just grazed me."

"Uh huh." Hank dismissed, moving to grab the zipper of Gavin's leather jacket. The younger detective struggled weakly, but it did nothing to stop Hank.

Gavin's black shirt was sticky and wet, and when Hank lifted it he saw the hole in the left side of his stomach, steadily leaking blood.

"Shit." He cursed, "Shit! Alright, son, just hold on-"

"Don't bother." Gavin wheezed, "Just leave it."

"Fucking _leave it_?"

Gavin shrugged, "Yeah-" He coughed, "Not- not like I haven't been wanting this for a while."

"If this is about Richard-"

"No." Gavin interrupted firmly, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "No, he's- I really like him. I _really_ like him, a-and maybe he's part of the reason, but not all of it." He sat quietly for a moment, then slowly sank to the floor with a quiet hiss, so that they were the same height. "Remember back at the cemetary, I told you I lost someone?"

Hank nodded.

"It was my brother." The detective began, "Twin brother to be exact. Back when we were kids he-... He killed himself. Never found out why, he didn't leave a note, and it messed me up, Hank. Fuck, he was _thirteen_ and he killed himself, I-" 

A round of coughing cut his story short and Hank tugged his partner against his chest, rubbed his back, "Easy, don't get yourself too worked up."

"Fucking _hurts_." Gavin choked, clutching at his side, slippery with blood, "Both this fucking bullet hole and thinking about my brother. W-we were so damn close, you know? Like we really had that freaky twin connection going on, 'cept he was so much smarter. He could've done some fucking great things if he hadn't-..." He swallowed, "A-and I miss him every God damned day. Twenty-three years and all I can think about when I go to sleep at night is joining him.

"Then I got this transfer, and I thought, _'m-maybe not yet'_. Met your bastard self, met Connor and Richard, and Tina- oh _fuck_ , Tina- y-you tell her I'm sorry, OK? And that she was the b-bestest damn friend I ever had, even if we only knew each other a couple months."

"OK." Hank soothed, "OK, Gavin, alright, just hush now. You focus on seeing your brother again, and Richard. You two had something pretty great going on, I'm sure your brother loves him too. They probably get on like a house on fire, wherever they are."

Gavin slumped heavily against Hank's chest, but he wasn't gone, not just yet, his wheezing breaths filled the empty bullpen. "'M gonna... gonna tell Connor you said... h-hi... tired though..."

Hank stayed silent, held his dying partner as tightly as he dared. Rocked him gently, tried to fight back the tears threatening to spill over.

Eventually, what seemed like an hour later, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes, Gavin fell quiet.

Hank's words were barely above a whisper when he spoke, "I'll tell him myself, just give me a moment to catch up."

**Author's Note:**

> So originally originally I was gonna have the ending be everyone chilling in 'heaven', but THEN I thought, 'maybe I'll do an open ended thing' but TH E N I thought 'NAH, I want that confirmed happy ending', but then I ACTUALLY WROTE the ending, and I just liked this open ended version so much more, and putting in that happy ending epilogue just seemed too jarring and IDK so yeah, don't be mad at me??
> 
> Shout out to my friendo for helping me with the fucking title, though it isn't too far off from the working title (Ghosts in the Attic)


End file.
